Masquerade
by Arcadia Jones
Summary: A dark little vignette concerning a masquerade ball  and some Bowie .


Author's Note: I wrote this a while back as a response to a DA kinkmeme prompt that wanted something Halloween-related. I…somewhat stuck to that. But then the scene from Labyrinth where the goblin king and Sarah are dancing in the masquerade ball popped into my head and I couldn't stop myself. That being said, the song from this belongs to David Bowie (and whoever else owns rights to Labyrinth). I ripped the song straight from the scene aforementioned and if you have the movie, I would highly suggest watching that part while you read this. (Or if you don't have the movie, I highly recommend watching it. Bowie makes the best Goblin King, hands down.)

The presses of bodies was suffocating…a thousand faces floating in and out of her line of vision wearing an assortment of gruesome masks and elaborate costumes. Hawke cast about, trying to find something—anything—that seemed familiar.

All around her, a soft voice sang:

_There's such a sad love _

_deep in your eyes_

_A kind of pale jewel_

_open and closed within your eyes_

_I'll place the sky, within your eyes…_

Her gown descended in gentle waves to the floor, white silk and gray lace studded with different gleaming gems and complex straps. Hawke was the only one not wearing a mask, though her long, dark hair had been piled on top of her head and tied with gently flowing silk ribbons.

A couple danced past her: a ghoul with red eyes and his skeletal partner. Their laughter scratched along the sides of her skull, sending little shivers coursing down her spine.

Still the voice sang:

_There's such a fooled heart_

_beating so fast_

_in search of new dreams_

_a love that will last within your heart_

_I'll place the moon, within your heart…_

Hawke looked up and found her gaze riveted on a certain mask—black and nondescript overall; certainly the least elaborate mask present—resting comfortably on the face of a man across the room. Black satin hugged his body sinfully, tracing every muscular curve and subtle movement as he swayed softly in time with the music.

She wanted to be near him—_needed _to be near him, and so Hawke took a step forward. But the closer she approached, the further away he seemed until he was gone completely, lost to the press. Another couple danced by, their gleaming eyes mocking the woman. Hawke opened her mouth to speak, but her voice was gone. The masks danced around her in their macabre pattern and there was nothing she could do but follow the rhythm: her feet making careful passes on the floor between the crowd…

And still that voice sang…

_As the pain sweeps through_

_makes no sense for you_

_Every thrill has gone_

_Wasn't too much fun at all_

_But I'll be there for you_

_As the world falls down…falling…_

Swaying…swaying…feet moving of their own accord…

_Falling in love…_

Warm hands pressed at her waist, slowly turning her around to face the man she so desperately needed to see. The mask was still there, allowing her to see only the lower half of his face and a pair of amused, honey-colored eyes gazing out at her from behind the confines of the disguise. Hawke let him lead, her left hand instinctively moving to his shoulder as his right arm reached down to encircle her waist; his left hand gently clasping her right as they began to move in time with the song…

_I'll paint you mornings of gold_

_I'll spin you Valentine evenings_

_Though we're strangers till now_

_We're choosing the path between the stars_

_I'll lay my love, between the stars…_

The tune was picking up a bit and Hawke found herself being swept away as the masked man drew her across the dance floor. Looking around at the others, Hawke was horrified to see that some of the masks had transformed into the faces of sneering Hurlocks and twisted abominations; to her left, Isabela's mask twirled to the music, though the face was grossly mutated into something _far _from human.

The closer she looked, the more Hawke realized that all of the people she knew were here: all of her friends and family; all of the people she had helped…and all of the people she had failed. Carver's mask danced closer now, wreathed in blood, leading the mask of Bethany, shackled and bound.

Then…Mother's mask was dancing, the skin pale and the eyes sunken. Those eyes bored into Hawke's soul and she tried to look away before Mother's partner came into view—but then it was as if her own partner—his black mask unforgiving—held her in place, forcing her to see the gruesome visage of Death that held the hands of her family. Another look around revealed that Death danced with them all, his face lost in hooded shadows.

_As the pain sweeps through_

_makes no sense for you_

_Every thrill has gone_

_Wasn't too much fun at all_

_But I'll be there for you_

_As the world falls down…falling…_

Still swaying…still moving…but with whom does she dance…?

_Falling in love…_

Hawke looked up into the cold dark that was Death. A strangled cry of despair tore its way up from her stomach, searing everything it touched on its way out of her throat. She pulled herself away and tried to run, but the crowd pressed in around her, denying escape. Gruesome visions leered at her from every side, rotting hands reaching out to tear at her dress, her hair, her flesh.

And then…then…

_Falling…_

Darkness consumed everyone…everything. She was…

_Falling…_

Except Death. Not even utter darkness could conquer Death. _Nothing _escaped him. Especially not Hawkes with broken wings.


End file.
